“Yes, I did,” Peter said. “That was indeed fortunate, because had I stopped at the front desk and asked them to ring and announce me, the man might well have refused to see me. Thus I decided the better plan of attack would be to knock on his door and gain admittance before he realized who I was.”

I had a sudden vision of Kanesha Berry questioning Peter. How would she handle his inability to get right to the point? She might arrest him out of sheer irritation.

“So you went up to his suite and knocked on the door?”

“Yes, I did.” Peter frowned. “But things did not proceed thenceforth in the way I had postulated. Godfrey did not open the door. I was forced to raise my voice slightly and entreat him to let me in. He refused.”

“Did he give a reason?” If Godfrey hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone, why did he bother answering?

But at least I knew he had been alive at five-thirty if he had talked to Peter.

“He explained that he felt quite ill and that he feared it was some kind of stomach virus. He had no desire to inflict it upon anyone in case it was infectious. He intended to stay in his room until he recovered.”

“That was kind of him,” I said. But odd, I thought. The bug must have had a quick onset, because he had appeared perfectly fine when I had last seen him at my house.

“Perhaps. I inquired of him whether he had informed the president’s office of his illness, and he said he had not. He then asked if I would be so good as to do it for him. Then he excused himself, saying he had to rush back to the bathroom. Seeing no point in remaining there any longer, I went back to my car and used my cell phone to call the president’s office. I also called Melba and asked her to inform others on the library staff who were planning to attend, as one presumes she informed you.”

“She did,” I said. “You need to talk to the deputy in charge of the investigation even more urgently now. This will help narrow down the time of death.”

“I suppose so,” Peter said, obviously unhappy about the idea. “One has so little desire to embroil oneself in such a sordid happening.”

“I quite understand,” I said. “But still, one must do one’s duty.” I stood.

“Thank you for your forbearance, Charles,” Peter said. “I appreciate you hearing me out.”

“Not a problem,” I said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

I opened the door, ready to leave, when an unsettling thought struck me. Why hadn’t it occurred to me sooner? I turned and walked back to the chair and sat down again.

“What is it?” Peter asked.

“During the time when your ex-wife was pursuing Godfrey,” I said, “did you ever meet him?”